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away from illegal broadcasting emanating from Portobello Towers.’

β€˜That’s nothing to do with me.’

β€˜Maybe not, but pass on some well-meant advice, will you. I am bound to forward what I know to the appropriate authorities.’

β€˜You’ll never stop them, not completely.’

β€˜That’s as maybe, but they can expect high-powered visitors, and soon.’

β€˜Thanks for the tip. Anything else you want to ask me?’

β€˜Not right now.’

β€˜Fair enough. Stay in touch, Walter.’

β€˜Sure,’ he said. β€˜I will,’ and gently set the phone down.

AT LUNCHTIME HE LEFT the office and jumped a cab for Easton Road. The same yellow Cayton was parked outside number 56. He made his way upstairs and rang the bell to 3A. Mary Warner opened up with a smile. It was a pastel green day. She looked kind of cute.

β€˜Hello again,’ she said. β€˜What can I do for you?’

β€˜I was just passing and I thought you might like to know that our enquiries about the other matter have now all been completed.’

β€˜Derek’s in the clear, is he?’

β€˜Of course he is, he was never really involved.’

β€˜I know that, Mr Darriteau. I do read the papers and watch TV.’

β€˜Yes of course you do, I just thought you’d like to know.’

Mary grinned and said, β€˜Would you like a coffee?’

β€˜Another time, maybe. It looks like you were on the way out.’

β€˜I was actually, just nipping into town.’

β€˜Any chance you could offer an overworked policeman a lift?’

β€˜I might.’

β€˜Good,’ he said, suddenly lost for words.

β€˜Such a terrible business.’

β€˜Yes, truly appalling.’

β€˜It must have been frightful for you, one of your own colleagues involved like that, such a shock, I imagine.’

β€˜It was, I haven’t quite come to terms with it.’

Mary bobbed her head and said, β€˜I’ll just get my things, raincoat and stuff.’

β€˜Sure,’ he said, kicking his heels on the cold landing outside, though he didn’t have long to wait, for a minute later she joined him, locked the flat door, and in another minute they were downstairs, and she was beeping the cute Cayton open, and they both climbed in.

On the short trip to town he blurted out, β€˜Do you like music?’

β€˜I love music. Why?’

β€˜There’s a choral concert on, at the Cathedral, Mozart, I think it is, 8pm tomorrow, I was wondering if you’d like to go.’

β€˜I’d love to go.’

β€˜Great! I’ll call for you, 7.30, if that’s okay?’

β€˜That’s fine. It’s a date.’

β€˜Just one thing.’

β€˜Yes?’

β€˜Can we go in your car?’

β€˜Of course,’ and then she said, β€˜you’re not banned, are you, from driving?’

Walter guffawed.

β€˜Course not. It’s just that I’m a car-less person at present.’

β€˜Not a problem, I adore driving.’

SHE DROPPED HIM IN town, and he hurried back to the office to see Mrs West, to take up her offer of the free tickets, before she gave them to someone else.

DAVID BAKER ARRIVED at Karen’s apartment at 8pm. She’d pulled out all the stops and had bought expensive wine, organic steaks, and avocado, and had gone to the trouble of making her own unique version of Baked Alaska.

Earlier, she’d found a quiet hour and a half to have her fine blonde hair washed and styled and gently trimmed, and back at the flat she’d slipped into that little black dress again, and she looked stunning.

Maybe tonight I’ll find out how much he really likes me, she pondered, unable to keep an expectant and excited grin from invading her fair face. The bell rang from downstairs and she jumped to it and sprang the door open, and a minute later he entered her flat, and by heaven he looked good. Tall dark and handsome, and he looked fitter too, as if he had been secretly working out, as if he was trying to impress her, and how cool was that? Try harder. Her earlier suggestion came back into her mind. Maybe he was, trying harder, it certainly looked that way.

He was carrying a large bouquet of red roses.

β€˜For me?’ she said, reaching out for them.

β€˜I guess,’ he said, coolly, as she took them and set them to one side, for they both had more important things in mind. He reached out and tugged her to him, and kissed her expectant lips, a mere brushing welcoming kiss that immediately morphed into a hard and heavy and passionate one. She hadn’t been kissed like that since the days of Rodney, and maybe David Baker was an even better kisser than Rodders; and that was certainly a pleasant surprise.

She let him kiss her again, as if to check it was as wonderful as she’d imagined, and indeed it was, and how brilliant it was to be able to relax, and lose oneself without worry or fear.

This time she could rest easy in knowing that she wasn’t in the arms of a dangerous man, while kissing, and being kissed by, a killer. Probably.

The End

David’s Notes

Thank you for buying and reading my books and I hope you enjoyed them. We have come to the end of this four-book package. You did well to reach the end! When you have a spare few minutes I’d appreciate you posting a brief review of this Box Set on any of the main book sales websites. That would be very kind of you. A single paragraph would suffice.

It does help me.

As always, any mistakes in this book are mine and mine alone. My friends and I work hard in eradicating the little blighters, but occasionally beasties and bugs slip through. I hope they didn’t detract from your enjoyment too much. We kill them when we can!

If you’d like to read more of Walter Darriteau and the team you can do that today. Check out β€œThe Legal & the Illicit”, β€œThe Death Broker”, β€œFive Dead Rooks”, β€œthe Missing Man”, β€œOld Cold Bones” and β€œFalling” all available to buy for a very modest sum!

Next year, there will be an all-new Walter Darriteau murder/mystery book released, God willing, and he’s very excited about that, as am I, so look out for that too. Please check out my website www.davidcarterbooks.co.uk for the

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